


Colors

by Jitter



Category: The Dresden Files - All Media Types, The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: After Skin Game, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 12:02:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6115834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jitter/pseuds/Jitter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is part of an RP. I edited it a little to fit drabble format and read as standalone because it's important to me and I needed it here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Colors

Harry was watching as his former apprentice battled with a coloring book.

He had come to her, once more, with one of his problems, and she had been doing well in answering as best as she could, both as his friend and as his Lady. 

Then he had said the wrong thing.

Molly had gotten up and had returned with two coloring books and a load of colorful markers, refusing to talk until they had both finished coloring something.

He had colored for a while, obliging her. An hour had gone by as they sat there in silence, the only sound the soft scratch of the felt tip markers on the paper.

Molly sat there, almost at peace, filling in the shapes of what seemed like a forest scene that had already been colored in at parts; vibrant colors like the ones Molly used to dye her hair with. Harry’s shapes were simpler. Inked Mandalas, a single one on each page, simple at the beginning of the book and more complicated as the pages turned. 

“Are you ready to talk yet?” he asked.

Molly set down a purple marker and looked at her page, then picked a hot pink one and colored in a few raindrop shapes. Her page was nowhere near finished, but it was really complicated and was taking up a lot of space on the page, so she set the pink marker down too and laid her palms on the table.

“You died,” she said quietly. Her tongue got out and licked her lips for a second, and she picked the marker up again, staring at it instead of Harry. “Then you came back and, God, Harry, I was so young, and so in love with you when you asked me to help you arrange your own murder.”

A pause.

“You know what happened next, what a mess I was.You _saw_ it. Then right as I was pulling myself together, standing on my feet again, you came back. Which was good--it was great. But I wasn’t well then yet. I didn’t let anyone touch me for a while, not even mom– I–”

She uncapped the marker, then capped it again.

“I _had_ made so much progress into both emotional and mental stability, though. And then this,” she placed her palms upright, and frost appeared on them, and what would have been a tear, rolled and frosted on her cheek, “ _This_ happened to me and I grew up. I grew up a lot more than I had when you died, Harry.”

She remained silent for a few moments before looking at him.

“Coloring helped then, and it helps now. Coloring pages, coloring my hair with magic, coloring my hair with dye, painting my nails– I don’t know why it's so soothing but it is. So yes, I’m ready to talk now.”


End file.
